Category: Smaller Law 101

Smaller Law 101: Advice from Taylor Swift about Bad Client Intake

When I think about my least favorite cases, it’s generally because the client is terrible in some crucial way.

I remember the day I got my own all-time least favorite case. It was about 20 years ago, and my day started with a simple matter in Williamson County General Sessions Court. While I was waiting for my case, there was a dramatic hearing on the docket right before mine.

A contractor had filed a pro se collection lawsuit, and, during the trial, the contractor came with a wild energy, ready to fight. He got into an argument with the lawyer on the other side, threatened the homeowners, had no documents to support his case, and ended the trial by yelling at the Judge (who had ruled against him and told him to hire a lawyer and appeal it, if he thought the decision was wrong).

As the contractor stormed out of the courtroom, yelling at everybody, I remember thinking “I would hate to be that guy’s lawyer.”

In the two hours that it took for me to get lunch and make it back to my office in Nashville, my boss had a new case for me. Yes, it was that guy. He had told his cousin about how he had gotten screwed over by a biased judge and needed a lawyer for the appeal in Circuit Court. The cousin–a client of my firm–recommended my boss, who handed the file directly to me.

I told my boss what I saw in court that day and begged him not to take the case.

I’ll spare you all the details, but that client never got less angry and more reasonable. He was mad at me for asking for paperwork and proof. He didn’t understand why we needed evidence. He was mad at the bills we sent him. He refused to participate in any meaningful aspect of the process. He hated me and questioned everything I said to him about the case. Settlement was never an option. We were going to fight this to the end. My boss took a “hands off” approach.

In the end, he showed up for the trial in Circuit Court, but it was only slightly less wild than the first trial. We lost spectacularly, and my memories of that trial are as vivid to me as my memories of my wedding day and the births of my children.

I tend to think about that case during the holiday season, because, after that trial, I went directly to a real estate agent’s elaborate holiday party in a 6,000 square foot model home in Brentwood (this was the good times, pre-Great Recession). I drowned my PTSD in eggnog.

I was reminded of it all, when I saw Matt Margolis‘ tweet about how better the practice of law can be when you get to choose your clients. Matt recently started his own law firm, Margolis PLLC.

That may be the greatest benefit of running your own firm. At my old firm, you got handed cases, whether you wanted them or not. Some clients are unreasonable. Some have bad claims. Some can’t afford a lawyer. In a big firm, often you don’t always have a choice. It’s too bad, though, because taking on bad cases or bad clients is an easy way to create unhappy lawyers.

Don’t get me wrong: In your own firm, you will absolutely take on bad cases and bad clients, but it’s different when it’s your own choice. At worst, it’s a lesson you (hopefully) learn from. Having recently closed the last of what I referred to as “The Sinister Seven,” I can assure you that it’s a learning process (ask me about the sequel, “The Terrible Two”). Taylor Swift and I both can benefit from some honest self-reflection.

After three plus years of running my own firm, you would be shocked at how picky I have become (I call it The Client Decision Tree, and I’ll do a full post on that soon). Some lawyers see those initial client calls like a job interview, and I do too: But it’s usually me doing the vetting.

I refer out about three times as many cases than I accept, and it’s been a revelation. Some clients simply make things more difficult, and that can impact your entire practice.

To this day, my engagement letters say “the attorney-client relationship is one of mutual trust and confidence,” and it’s not just filler to distract the client from the hourly rate and retainer. If I get a sense from a potential client that she doesn’t respect my role, the legal process, or trust me (i.e. listen to me), that client never gets an engagement letter.

Life is too short and reputations are too fragile to do work for clients who aren’t a good fit with my firm. Say yes to too many bad clients, and you’ll find you have less time, patience, and space for the awesome clients.

Smaller Law 101: My 2023 Holiday Gift Guide for Disgruntled Lawyers

It’s holiday party season for lawyers, and, man-o-man, have I spent a bit too much time around tipsy lawyers over the past few weeks (disclaimer: I’ve been to 2 parties).

It’s also the time of year for: all-nighter transaction work; squeezing files for extra billable hours; year end bonuses; meetings with compensation committees; and polishing up resumes for when all of the above go wrong.

Long story short, these are stressful, uncertain times, and I seem to be answering a lot of the same questions about leaving Big Law and starting a law firm.

So, for those of you who have stressed-out lawyers in your lives, I offer these suggestions as my 2023 Gift Guide for Disgruntled Lawyers.

Want to start your own firm, but have no idea where to start? Buy your lawyer a year subscription to Clio, a comprehensive online practice management platform that offers everything needed to run a law firm: time tracking; billing; online payments; document management; contacts; case and matter management; and everything else. Clio integrates with hundreds of third-party apps, and it’s designed to be the central hub through which all operations run. It’s awesome and costs about $1,000 per year. And, of course, it’s fully online (and secure), so there’s no need for that $25,000 on-site server that makes those strange buzzing noises behind the locked door at the old law firm.

What about everything else? That’s where an annual subscription to Microsoft365 comes in. For about $150, you get e-mail (Outlook), Word, Excel, Powerpoint, Teams, OneDrive, Sharepoint, and about 25 other programs that you’ve never heard of, but are awesome and useful (Bookings has changed my life). Plus, unless you’ve been living under a rock, you probably know that Microsoft is an industry leader on AI research, and you’ll get to be on the frontlines of Microsoft Copilot. That weird picture at the top of this post? It was AI generated by Microsoft Designer.

I haven’t seen anything about phones yet. Here, you’ve got two good options. The industry standard for video communications, Zoom, is now offering VoIP phone services (with pricing starting at $120 annually). Since you will have to get Zoom (all of the remote court appearances and conferences are on Zoom), this is worth looking into. (I use Ringcentral for phone, fax, and business texting, and it’s a bit wonky, but it works).

What about copies, printing and scanning? Most lawyers probably use some high-capacity printer, which is rented from a third party service (and the firm pays a monthly fee and a per page quota each month). You don’t need that. Find a good, mid-quality print/copy/scan machine from HP, which will cost you about $500.

What about the fancy offices? Don’t sign a 5 or 10 year lease for commercial office space. Instead, call one of the 5-7 fancy coworking spaces that have opened in Nashville. I use WeWork, which has been awesome (and has accommodated me in Austin, Chicago, and Seoul). Other options on Music Row include Ampersand Studios, Industrious, Kennect, and e-spaces. These spaces are all “turn key,” meaning they offer printing, internet, limited staffing, and package handling for a low monthly membership fee, generally ranging from $200 to $350.

What about websites and marketing? Some lawyers do this themselves. I don’t recommend that because branding is too important. For all of my various iterations of my own law firm, I’ve used Huckleberry Branding. They’ve designed my logos, helped with color schemes, designed a custom website, helped with content, and also all the incidentals that come with it all (including letterhead, envelopes, and business cards). While I’m embarrassed to have done this 3 times, I’d hire them again if there were a 4th time. They are awesome, and getting started with good branding is too important to do on your own.

What about staffing? You may wonder about who will do all the “little things” to keep the new firm running. (At my old firm, there was a person dedicated to making sure there were cold Cokes at all the meetings.) At a small firm, the lawyer will do all these little things, as well as the medium and big things. To make it a little easier, I’d recommend hiring a phone answering service. I use Abby Connect, a 24/7 answering service whose goal is serve as an extension of my own firm. I’ve used others (Posh) in the past, and the main differentiating factor tends to be pricing and frequency of use. These services cost range from $200 to $500 per month.

What about everything else? Stamps.com for everyday mail. Simple Certified Mail for certified mail. Simplifile to record documents (state-wide) with Register of Deeds’ offices. Lawpay to accept credit card payments (and, yes, Clio offers Clio Payments). If you’ve got lots of documents and need to super-charge document management, the biggest player in the market is NetDocuments (which I use) and is about $75.00 per user per month. I use Minnesota Lawyers Mutual Insurance as my malpractice carrier, and I can’t tell you if they are any good because I hope to never call them ever (about $150.00 a month for robust coverage).

What if this is still too complicated? Buy them a one-hour “Ask an Expert” call with Adriana Linares, of Law Tech Partners, a lawyer-turned-legal-technology consultant who takes a no-nonsense approach to coaching up entrepreneurs on making the early-firm decisions, as well as the late-firm decisions (I had a call with Adriana a few weeks ago).

It’s wild to think that you can run a fully functioning law firm for under $1,000 a month, but it’s entirely possible. It’s also lots of fun to explore all the innovations in legal technology. It’s an unprecedented time for growth in legal tech, and a lawyer with an entrepreneurial spirit has more options now than ever before in how she can practice law.

If there’s a lawyer in your life who believes her law firm isn’t giving her the freedom to nurture that entrepreneurial spirit, I hope this Gift Guide is the first step to a fruitful and lucrative 2024.

If any of you are thinking about making this jump, reach out with any questions, fears, or complaints. I’m happy to help. If I’ve left anything out or if you have any other questions, let me know, and I’ll respond.

Mic Drop: Happy Birthday to Me and My Law Firm

Today (August 8) is my birthday, and it’s also the three-year anniversary of when I started my own firm (well, August 7). With this post, I’ll ask you to indulge me a bit.

It’s a happy birthday toast to my law firm.

It hasn’t been a straight line, but it’s always been onward and upward. I cringe a little bit re-reading my August 2020 post announcing the move. My mission statement still rings true, but, in retrospect, I hadn’t quite run my “big plans” past the other firm (or the other other firm). I was just so excited to be building something new:

I tend to wake up, involuntarily, at 4:45 a.m. or so, to worry about whether it was the right choice and about all the work to be done to build something. Opening bank accounts. Picking office space. Hiring staff. Hiring lawyers. And, of course, doing the legal work for all the clients. And by “wake up, involuntarily,” I really mean “freak out” about what’s next.

My mistake was that I had no idea what I was looking for, until I happened to find it. It’s crazy that, 3 years ago, I typed out the above words, but it never once crossed my mind to actually start my own firm. Instead, I had spent the prior 3 years looking for, simply, a different Big Law Firm. /s/ Because everybody knows that the best way to have a voice in the big firm decisions and autonomy in your law practice is to move to a Big Law Firm. /end sarcastic voice/

Fail fast. So, I had all these big plans for an innovative way to run a law firm, and then somehow decided that I should definitely open an office for a 100 year old law firm based in a city 300 miles away. Reading that last sentence, I totally see the red flag. In reality, it took about 2 weeks. One more (brief) false start later, I decided to go Solo.

Trial and Error is sometimes the best teacher. I won’t recount the mistakes I made in the first 15 months running my own firm, but I’ll tell you that, by November 2021, I was annoyed, fed up, and ready to find the biggest law firm that needed a creditor rights expert. To that end, I met with a legal recruiter, Tara Boosey (who had an office in my building), and told her that I was sick of it, described what my dream job looked like, and told her to find it for me. Her advice? “It sounds like you already have the perfect job for you.” Not what I wanted to hear at that moment, but such great advice.

Just focus on the firm I have. Then it clicked. The work and referrals had always been there, but the unlikely encouragement really focused me on my path. A past obstacle was that clients tend to call me whenever something comes up, and I fretted about the client who maybe calls once a year for an IP referral or the other who sends me 1-2 complex commercial transactions that are way over my head. How could I help them, if I wasn’t at a huge law firm? Simple: I wouldn’t. I’d focus on exactly what I do (and do best), I’d build a network of small-law experts who I trusted, and the smart clients would appreciate a thoughtful referral to another awesome attorney.

And, then, focus even more. Even though the phone never stops ringing, I bill less hours than I used to at the big law firm. That’s because I also spend so much more doing everything else: marketing, IT, accounting, you name it. There are only so many hours in the day. If I couldn’t accept every new case, then I’d have to decide which of the clients I could help. I began to ask things like: Which clients are jerks? Which ones take forever to pay? Which ones are unreasonable? Which ones don’t listen to me? Those were the first ones to go. I call it the Client Decision Tree.

The good clients sustained the firm. Three years ago, when I announced that I was leaving my old firm, one client lost his mind, thinking he didn’t have the option to go with me. In a frantic email, he wrote “Wherever you are, that’s where I want my cases.” Needless to say, that client made the cut and has followed me through every step, through 4 different email addresses (ugh). Since August 7, 2020, I’ve opened 517 new client matters1. Maybe I’m not as low volume as I thought; that number is surprisingly high. A large part of that (maybe 200) were old matters that followed me when my bank clients said “take everything.” (It turns out that my fears that I wouldn’t have any clients unless I stayed in a Big Law Firm were incorrect.)

Working less is a good thing. Once upon a time, no matter what the old firm’s billable minimum was, I exceeded it. Obsessively. It was unhealthy, and maybe bad lawyering. The law should be thoughtful, strategic work, and “high volume” anything does not create the best product. I had a crushing workload. Billable hour mandates are driven by expenses and overhead, and, if those could be kept in check, I believed that my new model could produce high quality work, balanced with a healthy lifestyle. So far, so good: Last year, my hours hit an all-time low, but my net income hit an all-career high.

The mission statement wasn’t entirely crazy, either. Since opening my own firm, I’ve been recognized as an Attorney for Justice by the Tennessee Supreme Court every year. I have helped a Nashville group distribute more than a million dollars in property tax protection and racial justice reparation funds. I’ve started a charitable program, Lawyers Give Back, that has supported 17 different area charities. And, yes, the firm works really hard in service of our clients. I still lose sleep worrying about my cases–there are just intentionally less of those cases to worry about.

In the end, I discovered that I had my dream job. At the old firm, I took my kids to school maybe 10 times over the course of 5 years. In the last 3 years, I bet I’ve done 300 drop-offs and pick-ups. I’m a better lawyer, and I’m also a more engaged husband and father. (After a “law firm divorce,” I can assure you that your law partners don’t actually love you like family.)

Byeonhosa Noraebang! I never took real vacations; instead, I’d tack a few extra days onto 3 day weekends here and there. This year, my family took a dream vacation, spending 3 weeks in South Korea. Our trip culminated with a great dinner with two Korean banking lawyers (and friends), who took our family to noraebang afterwards (on the 10th anniversary of BTS’s debut).

If you’ve made it this far, you may be wondering what my point is, other than a bit of bragging. That’s fair, but we should be able to authentically celebrate all sorts of successes and not just brag on LinkedIn about being a Super Lawyer.

There’s a stigma attached to being a solo lawyer, which isn’t fair. A lawyer doesn’t have to work at a big law firm to be successful or to produce sophisticated work. Three years ago, I couldn’t comprehend that, a result of years of false messaging from law schools and bar associations. Even 20 years into my own legal career, I fell for that BS, and my ignorance wasted a lot of my time.

Don’t get me wrong. Running a small firm is hard and can be a complete pain in the neck (feel free to read some of my other blog posts on that topic). I often tell people “It’s the best job on earth, and it’s the worst job on earth, but it’s never in the middle. I used to spend a lot of time in the middle.”

I also used to tell my kids that they were forbidden from ever becoming lawyers, because it was such an awful job. Not anymore. Now, for the first time, I can picture a day when one of my kids might take over the little firm.

What a three years it’s been. I’ll conclude this post with a celebratory link to BTS’s Mic Drop (a song in which South Korea’s greatest boy band encourages you to relish your successes and also to tell your haters to annyeonghi gaseyo).

Now, I’ll turn off the work email early and go enjoy a birthday dinner with my family.

  1. A prior version of this post said 549, which is what my billing software shows and sounded bizarrely high. On further research, that included a few adminstrative / pro bono / conflict type file assignments, so I reduced the number. ↩︎

Smaller Law: You Don’t Answer Your Own Phones, Do You?

Last year, I was making small talk with a Medium Firm lawyer at a fancy lawyer dinner, and I was complaining about all the phone calls.

The conversation hit an abrupt stop….

Him: Wait a second. You don’t answer your own phone calls, do you?

Me, after an awkward 5 second pause: HA! No way, of course not, are you kidding? (said, literally, while my phone was vibrating in my pocket with a new call)

One of my favorite parts of having my own firm also relates to the least fun part of it: I make every administrative decision and also pay for every decision.

When the cost of every subscription, new technology, and sponsorship comes directly out of your own pocket, you develop a critical eye when making decisions.

With every one, I always ask: Will this help me serve my clients and/or make their experience working with me better? If yes, I then ask: Is it absolutely necessary?

At my old firm, every fall, a brand new stack of the Thomson Reuters “Rules of Court” books would show up on my desk. It was great. I’m a litigator, and, back then, I’d have stretches where I went to court every day of the week. Those books are useful.

But, not absolutely necessary. Everything in those books is available on Westlaw (if you’re a subscriber). They are also totally free on the Tennessee Courts’ website or the United States Courts’ website. They were a useful luxury.

Even back then, I’d get so worked up when I’d see that cart full of the new versions being delivered to every lawyer at the firm. About half of the lawyers never went to court and most likely never touched the books. At 40 lawyers, the $600 price tag turned into real money fast.

Because the $25,000 invoice didn’t come out of any one person’s pocket, nobody ever questioned the expense. We were a big firm, and buying a set for every lawyer was just something you did.

Over time, I saw dozens of budget items that had accumulated over time, which simply became legacy institutional costs that nobody questioned.

Just like paying somebody to answer your phone.

A disclaimer: I’ve always been a “direct line” lawyer, but my clients generally learn to email me for best results. (I mean, post-COVID, who is making “surprise” calls and expecting the other person to have a substantive conversation with you on the spot?)

And, yes, my old firm had people who intercepted unanswered calls and then flipped them to my voicemail. Nowadays, I use a third-party answering service, Abby Connect, to do the same thing, but for about $300 per month. As long as the client hears back promptly, they haven’t cared at all.

There’s really no right or wrong way to run a law practice. What works for one firm might not work for somebody else.

Having said that, though, there’s a direct correlation between how expensive it is to run a law firm and how many hours lawyers are forced to bill. Everything you read about lawyer burnout and stress suggests that an oppressively heavy workload isn’t ideal.

Sure, frisbees with your law firm logo on them are fun, but, somewhere, there’s an associate attorney billing an hour to pay for that.

When I make a decision for my own firm, I also know that any added cost means added billable hours. Some costs are necessary; others simply aren’t worth the extra burden on my schedule.

Today, I’m lucky that I’m the one who gets to make that choice.

My advice for other lawyers thinking about switching firms? Consider whether your values align with the people who will be making those types of decisions. It’ll be you paying for them.

Also, law firm clients, this same warning applies to you. I mean, you’re the ones who pay for all of it.

Smaller Law: Money Can Be a Bad Reason to Change Law Firms

As promised, some unsolicited career advice.

I became a lawyer for the money.

Others may talk about the prestige, a “love of the law,” and changing the world (all things I also care about). But, it’s the money that helps me slog through the piles of paperwork, arguing with other lawyers, and the nights I wake up at 2am and worry myself back to sleep.

If I won the billion dollar Powerball, I’d live a life free of interrogatories and argumentative lawyers. As a billionaire, I’d only employ lawyers who tell me “yes.”

On the topic of money, the Nashville legal job market is going through a golden age, with lawyers jumping from firm to firm like never seen before. In their rush to build a presence in Nashville, some of these law firms are offering quick cash to associates, partners, and, for a really big bag, entire law firms.

If you’re considering a move, I’ll offer some counter-intuitive advice: Never base your decision on money alone.

Some industries don’t have mathematical ways to measure the impact of superstar talent. If Bruce Willis wants $5M an episode for Moonlighting, then who’s to say that’s not what he’s worth?

The legal industry is different. Most law firms–big, medium, small, and tiny–follow the same general business model: billable hours. A lawyer’s salary usually comes down to: (1) How many hours are you billing? and (2) How much are you charging for that hour?

There’s a little bit of discretion this way or that way, but, in the end, a lawyer’s salary is a matter of math.

When a new firm offers a raise, a lawyer will probably be expected to “earn it back” (by multiples) by billing more hours and charging higher rates. Law firms don’t give money away.

I don’t trust legal recruiters for career advice, but BCG Attorney Search has an ok article, There are Only Three Reasons an Attorney Should Ever Switch Law Firms. They are: (1) You haven’t cultivated the right office relationships; (2) You aren’t getting enough work; and (3) You can upgrade to a better firm.

It’s not a terrible list. The “big picture” concepts are fine, but there are about 5 items of specific advice that make me cringe.

My own list would add: (4) Are you growing as an attorney, either via general learning (Are they mentoring you?) or developing a niche practice (Are they exposing you to a practice area or client base that you can grow into and develop?) (5) Do you like the people there and their working style (i.e. the vibe)? (6) Does your law firm value your contributions to the firm? (7) What are the future prospects for growth (i.e is the firm managed by old white guys on their way out, without any transition plan) and how could you fit into that future (i.e. is the leadership team inclusive, a small clique, or, worse, located 2-3 states away)? (8) What level of autonomy do (or would) they allow for you to grow your practice?

As you consider all of these questions, always ask yourself: Ignoring the potential raise, would things be better if I just stayed put?

Before I left my old law firm in 2020, I had spent about 2 years seriously listening to recruiters’ and law firms’ offers, and I realized that every law firm was basically the same. A little bit more money, but more hours and my rate would increase to a level that would chase off most of my clients. I’d be a stranger, though, who didn’t know how the document management system worked or where the snacks were hidden. The money wasn’t worth the hassle and couldn’t overcome my other concerns.

I declined all offers, mainly because I cherished my “F You Capital,” hard earned after nearly 13 years of high performance at the same firm. Even though I didn’t agree with the firm on many administrative things, my past success and client base had earned me a level of autonomy that was valuable to me. I had very little interest in being the “new lawyer.”

I understand that some lawyers are drastically underpaid, and many people don’t have the luxury of turning down a raise. What I’m recommending, though, is that money shouldn’t serve as a wildcard, to solve the red flag answers to the other questions.

You’ll have lots of jobs and will make good money as a lawyer, but you only have one career. Be deliberate when making the jump.

Smaller Law 101: Advice on Growing your next Law Firm

Exactly three years ago, I was struggling with two decisions. One, whether to buy a boat. Two, whether to leave my long-time law firm.

As to the boat, the world is full of advice about that. Ask anybody you know, and you’ll instantly hear the joke about the “two best days of a boat-owner’s life.” There’s so much information online (generally negative) that a prospective boat buyer has to actively ignore it all.

As to the second (far more important) decision, I was surprised by how little information was out there. Bar associations tend to avoid the topic like the plague. Their business model is to keep big law firms happy, or, at the very least, to not encourage mutinies. Other lawyers aren’t much help either–you’ll rarely get an honest response. They’ll either embellish (for good or bad) or, worse, let slip to somebody that you’re thinking of leaving.

As a result, most lawyers keep quiet and rely on legal recruiters or their own ego, two very unreliable and heavily biased voices.

In this wild Nashville legal market where lawyers are constantly switching firms (and, in a surprise twist, switching back to the original firm), there’s value in real talk. Sometimes the billable hours aren’t greener at the other firm.

For me, I got the law firm decision right. Having said that, even though I’ve had three very successful years, it’s all been built on a foundation of small mistakes, miscalculations, and lessons learned the hard way.

I could write a book about all the things I’ve learned about entrepreneurship, law firm management, marketing, and psychology but, instead, I’ll write some blog posts here over the next few months as the 3 year firm-iversary approaches.

As for the boat? I totally screwed up that one, a mistake so notable that it was documented on the front page of USA Today.

If you’re considering leaving your existing firm, I hope that these blog posts over the coming weeks will be useful –or maybe just keep you out of the national news.